The No No Name
by ShogunNatarii
Summary: This is just the story stuff for my Ambush Game. (if you don't know what that is, shoo) (LOL jk) For those who read this just 'cause, you will see gaps in the storytelling, and that is due to the fact that more than half of the story is covered in roleplay. I may fill in the gaps later, but it is doubtful. Enjoy reading, please review and follow if you like it! :D Rated K for now.
1. Layton Group Prologue

**Layton Group Prologue – This Reminds Me of a Puzzle…?**

Professor Hershel Layton of archaeology at Gressenheller University sat in his home, at his desk, during midday, sorting through fossils and making vague sketches of a creature's skeleton based on said fossils. For reference, he kept one novel open on the top left corner of his desk, and as he went back and forth, sipping from his teacup and making marks on his sheet of sketch paper, he marked occasionally on the thin pages of the book.

"Professah! Professah!" shouted a young blonde boy whose name was Luke Triton, as he opened the door, came through it, and slammed it closed behind him at lightning speed.

Upon hearing the distress in the poor boy's tone, he dropped his pencil below where his hand was hovering, snatched his jacket that was resting its shoulders on the back of his wooden chair and bolted out from his study, calling, "What is it, Luke? What's happened?" Halfway down the stairs, he caught sight of the 15-year-old Triton boy, who was looking up at him from the base. "Luke?"

"Come outside, Professah! It's unimaginable what's happening outside right now! Supernatural, I could even say," declared Luke, his left hand grasping the strap on his brown briefcase that was strung around him.

"Luke, please, I have no idea what you're going on about. Could you elaborate a bit?" asked the professor, quickly slipping his arms into the sleeves of his black coat and adjusting his hat at the brim.

"No, Professah, I don't think I could," the boy replied. "You need to come see with your very own eyes!" Luke tugged slightly at Layton's sleeve, and then bolted back outside just as quickly as he had come in from it, this time leaving the door open a crack behind him.

Luke stood on the curb looking frightfully up at the sky, and holding the brim of his newspaper boy cap between his forefinger and the end of his thumb, so the harsh wind wouldn't blow it away from the top of his head. The first thing the Professor noticed as he opened the front door was a purplish tint that covered everything, instead of the orange-ish haze that the sun bathed the scenery in as evening began. As he opened it wider, he felt the wind hit him, cause resistance when he tried to push the door, and observed how unnaturally powerful it was. Then said wind changed direction suddenly and flung the door open so that it hit the wall behind it. As he walked halfway down the staircase at the doorstep, Layton laid eyes on a purplish-blue vortex, swirling in the sky above suburban London.

"Good heavens!" Layton exclaimed. "What on earth **is** that!?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Professah!" Luke yelled, which was the only way to be heard over the commotion and a very loud humming noise emanating from the vortex. The sounds that could be heard during their pause were panicking people, barking dogs and the whistle of the wind.

"That, my good man," said a voice from behind, "is a rip in the fabric." Luke whipped himself around to see the man who spoke just then, and the professor turned quickly round also.

"Who are you!? How do you know about this thing?" Luke barked at the man as he became a bit defensive.

"Luke, please," scolded the Professor. "'Rip in the fabric', you say… Do you mean the fabric of—" Layton was cut off by the man's swift reply.

"Space-time, yes."

"Excuse my manners at this point, if you will. I am Hershel Layton, and this is Luke. May I know your name, sir?"

"I am Emmerich Frei," answered he. "Perhaps we can discuss more indoors, given you don't mind."

"Of course. My house is right here. Please, follow me," said the Professor. Luke followed behind Frei, who followed Layton, and childishly gave him a proper stink eye because Frei couldn't see him do so. The Professor led his little procession to the dining room table at which they all proceeded to sit.

"Whoo! That wind sure is **something**! It feels good to be inside, and away from it," remarked Luke, fixing his cap. He leaned against a wall and looked on to the two adults in whose presence he was now in.

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, Mr. Frei?" asked Layton.

The man set down a very nice black, glossy walking stick with gold accents at the handle and at the opposite end, so the handle rested at the edge of the table. Then, he got into a comfortable position in his chair and adjusted his sharp-angled glasses. "I am a temporal scientist, as you may have deciphered. I have based my research on the theories of Dr. Alain Stahngun, AKA Dimitri Allen. Although his goal **was** to deceive you when you encountered him, his research and that invention he created was far from invalid. I am an expert in this area, and I wish to petition you to partner with me in unraveling the mystery behind the cause of that vortex," explained Frei.

"I'll be happy to assist you, sir. But the subject is broad and contains a majority of conjecture and surmise. Where do we begin?" inquired Layton.

"With observation, of course!"

"Of course."

"Just keep your eyes open for the unordinary and report those sightings to me. I would appreciate a daily wire of your findings."

"I can certainly comply. But, may I ask one more question?"

"You certainly may."

"Why are you so intent on finding the answer to the cause of this anomaly?"

"I have a gut feeling we will save some innocent souls with the answer, my friend. And now, if you'll excuse me," Frei picked up his walking stick and looked down at his watch, "I'll be off. Good day." Then he nodded, and saw himself quickly out the front door.

As Frei closed the door behind him and walked down the curb, away from Layton's abode, Luke said, "What a curious man, Professah."

"Indeed."

"Are you really going to help that guy? I mean—this could be dangerous! I know Allen's "future London" was merely a ploy, but this—that can't have been fabricated, could it?" Luke asked, becoming quite worried at the thought of an actual rip in the fabric of space-time.

"Doubtful. Quite, doubtful. However, such careful trickery has been used on us before. Do not let your eyes or your emotions deceive you, or previous circumstances bias you, Luke. Remember, a true gentleman always keeps a clear head."

The Professor had been at Gressenheller all morning and afternoon, seeing as it was a Thursday, and was now walking from the university at which he taught to his home, enjoying himself much less than he normally did during this walk. The vortex still spun round in the sky, making it appear a purplish blue instead of the normal shade of blue. The sun had all but vanished, and there were no clouds. Birds were quiet, and people walked around silently, somewhat fearfully, making his little suburban London feel so unnatural.

Adjusting the position of the strap of the thick, heavy briefcase he toted on his shoulder, he glanced around. He was about halfway home, where all the restaurants, cafes, bakeries, the local butcher, pastry shops, and other shops of odds and ends and miscellaneous components were located. First, he glanced to the left, at the rows of little holes-in-the-walls he was directly passing. Then, he glanced to the right, across the street, directly into the window of a café. What he beheld was the most conspicuous group, not even his wildest of imaginings could have conjured up!

"Good heavens…!" he exclaimed. But then he blinked, and the conspicuousness he saw was there no more. He adjusted his hat and his gaze hardened. "What exactly is going on here?"

As the Professor was making his way to the front door of his house, fumbling with his keys, the postman came up behind him with a, "Hello there, Professor." This nearly gave Layton a heart attack.

"Oh, goodness, you gave me a start." He shook it off and smiled at the bearded man who handed him his mail. The postman tipped his hat.

"Top of the mornin' to ya," he said, before scurrying off.

Layton unlocked the door and pushed it open with his elbow, shuffling through the stack of envelopes decisively before coming across an envelope with a manila tint and a prominent post stamp on the corner with no return address. That's odd, thought he. He flipped over this envelope and sealing it was some kind of city hall seal; it belonged to Wolverhampton, in the West Midlands. Who did the Professor know in Wolverhampton…?

At any rate, he peeled off the seal, slipped out a sheet of paper folded threepart and unfolded it so he could read what was written. At the top of the letter was an address; Layton assumed it was the return address for the home or workplace of whoever sent this to him. His eyes darted left and right across the page and the more he read, the more surprised his expression became. He walked into the parlor where Luke was sitting with a book in his hands as he read the mysterious letter. Luke looked up at the Professor and noticed his distress.

"Professah, are you alright?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh, yes, perfectly fine… except…" Layton stood still in the middle of the room as he read the closing and signature that adorned the bottom of the letter.

_'Your old friend,_

_ Clyde Mordecai'_,

it read. Instantly, thoughts and memories of college days and textbooks and homework filled the Professor's mind—when he was on the other side of such things, that is. He smiled slightly at the remembrance, but then frowned at the contents of this letter—this petition for help.

"Except what?"

Layton sighed. "Why don't you see for yourself?" Luke took the letter from his mentor's outstretched hand and read it from top to bottom, his expression changed subtly the more he read, also.

"My stars… Professah, are we going to help your friend?"

"Of course we are, we have no choice. A true gentleman—"

"Always helps a friend in need, I know, Professah." They both smiled.

_Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!_ came a noise at the door, followed by a loud, happy voice that could only belong to one person in the whole world. "Layton!" it called. "Layton, old chap, let a friend in, would you? Shhh! Quiet down! Come, come, Layton, I have an old friend or two of yours!"

Luke sighed and he became annoyed in both expression and posture. "What's Dr. Frei want?"

"Now, now, Luke, respect your elders." Luke grudgingly followed Layton as they went to the door. As the Professor unlocked it, Frei burst in, knocking Layton backwards into the wall behind him and startling Luke quite a bit.

"Ah, Layton!" he exclaimed. "Professah?" He turned around to see his companion recovering from quite the bang into the wall. "Oh, do forgive me for that, but things are happening, you see, good things, exciting things!" He hurried over to him and clasped one of Layton's hands in both of his. "I hope you don't mind, but I put together a tag-team of sorts," the doctor explained.

Layton almost tripped as he walked toward Frei, and his hat slipped over his eyes. "T-tag-team?" he said worriedly, adjusting his hat.

One by one, three individuals welcomed themselves into Layton's parlor. First inside was the tall, lanky, prominent person of Dimitri Allen, or 'Alain Stahngun', the man who advertised a 'working time machine' and almost got the Prime Minister of England killed. The second to enter was the hatted, caped and collared Jean Descole, a prominent scientist with a megalomaniac complex and a self-proclaimed rival of the Professor's. The final was a very blocky, strong-faced and nasal-voiced man, with goatee and a bald spot to boot, Don Paolo, another self-proclaimed rival of Layton's. Luke and the Professor deadpanned at the whole scene.

"What in the name of—?"

With a bit of explanation on Dr. Frei's part, Layton calmed his head, and everyone had a spot of tea to drink.

"Well, if it will help us conduct our investigation, then I don't mind at all, although I do wish you would've said something before going ahead," replied the professor, still a bit numb at the adversaries now in the room. "And especially before going ahead and inviting them into my home…" He tugged at his hat again to overshadow his eyes. "At any rate, Dr. Frei," Layton continued, "I received this letter today, and I can't help but suspect that this may have something to do with that vast anomaly in the sky we beheld. You may read it, if you wish." Frei stood beside the Professor and when he nearly snatched the page from his hand, he leaned forward, and placed and adjusted his reading spectacles atop his nose. If it were not for the chatter in the background everything would've been silent for a good five minutes.

"Well… this is quite the development," said the good doctor, putting away his spectacles. After he closed his eyes and thought for a moment, he continued; "Well, up and at 'em, people, we should get a move on!"

"Uh, a move on to where? If you don't mind me asking," said Luke.

"Wolverhampton, of course."

The bus was quickly approaching the train station. The ETA was approximately 20 minutes according to the driver, and that was good news to Dimitri, Layton and Emmy, who were all standing in order to let other, elderly folks sit in their stead.

"Next stop! Gateway Train Station! If you please, be prepared to exit the bus upon arrival," declared the driver through the intercom system. Everyone who was getting off next gathered up their things in their arms, and waited for the bus to come to a halt at the curb. As Professor Layton led his party in procession out the door, he tipped his hat to the driver and smiled.

Inside the actual station, they were almost immediately approached by a young lady with brown hair and green eyes, carrying a medium sized duffel bag and waving at the Professor. She called his name, and clasped his hand in both of hers cheerfully. She behaved as if they had known one another, but in truth, they had never met before. He was a gentleman of course, and engaged in formality.

"Hello, young lady, but I do not believe I know you… do I?" inquired the Professor.

"Excuse my forwardness, but my father talks about you so much, I feel like I know you already," explained she, and smiled. "My name is Celeste." She glanced behind Layton and observed quite a few others accompanying the gentleman. "I didn't expect so much company," she remarked.

"Ahh, what a pretty young thing you are!" exclaimed Dr. Frei, suddenly emerging from the party. "My name is Emmerich Frei, it's a pleasure to meet you! Why have you been sent to meet us here?" He said, seizing her hands in his. Celeste smiled at his compliment and nodded.

"Well, my father said you may need direction to his workplace, and few know Wolverhampton better than me."

"We'll be sure to give him our thanks for his thoughtfulness upon our arrival. Now, then—"

Layton's pleasantry was cut off by the sound of a woman's scream. A man with orange hair and beard came flying across the room, landing, finally, into some tourist's suitcases, the monocle that was once over his eye now shattered. He rolled over, and stood up again. His face was angry, and his brow furrowed. Then, something exploded. (Seemingly the result of a smoke bomb of some kind.) From the smoke emerged a tall fellow, bearded also, except in white rather than orange, and his dark, black brows drawn tightly over his piercing, blue eyes. The first, orange-haired man drew a rod of metal from his coat jacket and pressed a button on the side. From the top of this apparatus illumined a blue light, concentrated into a beam that ended in a point. The other man drew a similar object from his coat, and from it protruded a similar light, but it glowed red. With these light swords they dueled a while, Layton and Dr. Frei ushering people to get into some hiding place safe.

"Dooku, you have no reason to fight me," said the orange-bearded man, pressing against his opponent's sword with his own. "We know, as well as you do, you are behind this horrible mess."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Kenobi!" Dooku pressed back with much strength, knocking the other backwards, and then into the ground, his sword hilt sliding from his hand. The white-haired man held his sword to his adversary's neck. "Now, what is it about this being my fault?"

Another man, also in suit coat and slacks, came up to them both, toting an odd-looking pistol. "Count Dooku, General Kenobi, please. If we are to resolve our dilemma, then we cannot afford to quarrel among ourselves!"

A dark figure emerged behind this voice of reason, his face hidden by the hood of his cloak. He said, "As much as I don't like saying this, the clone is right. We need to… work together, at this."

Dooku hesitated as he withdrew his lightsaber. "Yes, Master."

"Good, Lordy, gentlemen! I see someone has gotten up on the wrong side of the bed!" exclaimed Dr. Frei, hurrying over to these interesting individuals.

"More like the universe, good sir," replied Kenobi.

"Ahh, hushushushush," said Frei, putting his hand on the man's shoulder, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I know you are not from this world, but let's not draw too much attention to ourselves. Come, come, you will accompany us to Wolverhampton!" The good doctor scuffled over to the kiosk and purchased train tickets for all his new acquaintances.

"What is Wolverhampton?" asked Dooku.

"A city, of course! Come, come, come, you must join us!"

"What reason have we to trust you?" asked the dark figure who Dooku referred to as "Master".

"Well, for one thing, if you trust me, there is a nice chance I can return you all home. And for another thing," he paused and looked around, "I can protect you. There are some in this world who would take a happenstance such as this a little too personally. Now, come, come, Wolverhampton is waiting, and so is Mr. Layton's friend! Hurry, hurry, we must get on with the show, now! I will explain everything on the train!"


	2. Star Wars Group Prologue

**Star Wars Group Prologue – Obi-Wan Kenobi Made a Trip Through Space in Eighteen-Hundred Seventy-Eight**

"Master, you have got to be kidding me," said young Padawan Ahsoka Tano. She crossed her arms and bit her lip, irritated. Why did they have to scour the biggest nebula in the whole galaxy… just to chart it? It was a big waste of time! They had a war to fight! Tano was being kept away from the frontlines by her own master… and the Jedi Council was backing him up, too.

"Sorry, Ahsoka, but it's important to the Republic. The nebula could provide ways for us to ambush the Separatists, and prove most advantageous for it. However, certain pieces of intel suggest that there is already an enemy presence in the Naughtyon nebula. That's why you, Master Obi-Wan and I are being assigned to this mission," explained Anakin Skywalker, Tano's master. Her expression was little altered. "Ahsoka, I don't want to do this anymore than you do. But, it's what the Council wants."

"Alright, Master. At least we won't be completely bored, then. Giving those clankers a run for their money is always fun," the Togrutan girl said with a wink.

"Perhaps you can catch up on your studies while we're adrift." Skywalker smirked playfully, which caused his Padawan to smile and roll her eyes.

A couple hours or so later, Masters Skywalker and Kenobi, Padawan Tano, and clone Captain Rex and Commander Cody met up in the Republic hangar bay near the Senate building. There were a bunch of other clone troopers running left and right, here and there, moving cargo, barking orders, fixing ships, and directing take-offs and landings. There were even a few characters of different species hired by the Republic to assist.

"Hello, Captain Rex," she said to the clone who was holding his helmet at his side, his head presently bare. "Oh, and hello, Commander," Ahsoka greeted CC-2224, AKA Cody, of the 212th Battalion. "I didn't know you would be joining us."

Rex and Cody saluted the approaching Jedi Knights. "Commander Tano," Cody replied, nodding. "Actually, sir, I won't be joining this excursion. I've been assigned to aid Master Fisto and his Padawan, Natalie Crescent, on Devaron. I'm to take the reinforcements to them immediately," Cody explained.

"Well, may the Force be with you, then, Commander," said Obi-Wan Kenobi, from behind the Master-Padawan duo in front of him. The yellow-and-white armored clone nodded to his superior officer, and then he turned around and began to walk away, towards the Republic Star Destroyer prepared with Master Fisto's reinforcements. Admiral Yularen met up with him along the way, and finally, they boarded the vessel.

"So, Anakin. Are you ready for one of the most boring mission you've been assigned yet?" asked Kenobi, smiling though his beard, and clasping his hands behind his back. Skywalker rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Yep, I'm ready," the young Knight replied. "Ahsoka?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, Masters. Of course, I'm ready also," said Tano, putting on a fake smile. She just knew this was going to be the longest excursion of her life. Everyone knew she took after her master exceedingly. Although she could be reckless and impulsive at times, she was growing and becoming more mature, just as her master was.

No one had taken notice, but Rex had disappeared between the discussions. Suddenly he returned, and upon such, he said, "Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, the charting team is ready for take-off whenever you are, sirs." He slipped his helmet back on with that, and since everyone was prepared to embark beforehand, they each followed another onto General Skywalker's Star Destroyer.

"Wait!" shouted a voice. Everyone looked back towards the sound. "Master Anakin, please, wait for me!" It was none other than C-3PO, Anakin Skywalker's faithful protocol droid. "Masters, Captain Rex," he said, acknowledging them. "I am a last-minute addition to this party. Since I am capable of communicating in many more languages than necessary, in the event you should make contact with another species unable to communicate in Basic, I am here to assist!" the golden-plated droid explained. Skywalker, Kenobi and Tano all exchanged glances.

"Welcome aboard, Threepio," said Tano.

"I thank you."

On the bridge of the _Reckless_, the Star Destroyer normally under Skywalker's command, Admiral Tarkin had already been waiting for the trio of Jedi and the accompanying clone captain and droid. He went through the general synopsis of what they would be doing to chart the nebula in detail. While Kenobi seemed fairly interested in the subject, it bored Skywalker a bit, and it bored Tano even more. Threepio went about by himself, re-accustoming himself to being on the bridge of a starship. Tano simply stood there with her arms crossed, looking out the forward windows into the blue lightshow that was known as hyperspace.

"Lieutenant, status report," demanded Tarkin to a nearby bridge officer, who was a simple clone trooper, stationed at a radar panel.

"No signs of any lifeforms, or electric signals from droids for that matter, but I am picking up a large amount of immense asteroids. We should tread carefully," he declared, touching one hand to his headphones and reading from the radar screen, turned halfway to the captain's direction in his rotating chair. Tarkin nodded, and said a series of numbers that indicated to the others, when translated into coordinates, how to change the course of the Destroyer as it drifted along.

"I knew this trip would be slow," said Ahsoka aloud to herself.

Promptly, after only a moment of silence, the lieutenant aforementioned rapidly exclaimed, "Sir! I'm suddenly picking up enormous levels of temporal radiation!"

"All stop!" said Tarkin in response. The whole vessel jerked forward, which caused some to fall, including Threepio, and others to grab onto nearby objects for support. Slowly, it came to a complete halt.

"My stars!" the droid exclaimed. "What in the name of the Force was that?"

"Admiral Tarkin, what's going on?" asked Skywalker, scrunching his face a bit in anger.

"Now, Anakin," said Kenobi, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Temporal disturbances can be dangerous and elusive. We could have run into it accidentally if I hadn't stopped us," replied Tarkin, indignantly.

"Temporal disturbances? Do those even exist?" inquired Kenobi, placing a hand to his chin.

"Indeed they do, as you can plainly see. Lieutenant!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you locate its exact location, or perhaps what's causing the disruption?"

"Give me just one moment, please, sir. I should be able to detect it with the correct frequency adjustments," replied the officer.

"Just what happens when one is caught in one of these anomalies, Admiral?" asked Kenobi, once again.

"One would be transferred to a different point in time; some have even reported to ending up in a completely different galaxy, thousands of lightyears away, and it is almost impossible to return," explained Tarkin.

"Good heavens!" said Threepio.

"'Almost impossible'?" echoed Kenobi, quickly glancing at Threepio, and then back to the admiral.

"There have been two cases in which the victims were temporally displaced, and then were returned to their original time placement, but it was mere chance," elaborated the redheaded admiral.

"Sir! The disturbance is morphing!" called the lieutenant.

"What!?" spat Kenobi.

"The radar is now reading the disturbance as space-time continuum fluctuations," he reported.

"Does it make a difference?" inquired Tarkin of him.

"Yes, sir. Those sorts of fluxes are more dangerous, and since it evolved from a simpler temporal anomaly, it could even be more so." After the lieutenant uttered this statement, the radar began emitting a beeping noise. "I have coordinates, Admiral."

"Excellent."

"B-167, D-94 on the grid," he said.

Suddenly, the entire cruiser began to shake, like a cartoon at the sight of an animated ghost. "Admiral! What's happening to the ship!?" shouted Anakin Skywalker. The noise generated by the shaking grew louder and louder.

"I have no idea!"

"We're being pulled in!" answered the lieutenant. "The flux seems to have moved too close to us, and is now sucking us in like a tractor beam!"

"Is there any way to counteract the force of the flux?" yelled Kenobi over the noise.

Before the lieutenant could answer, C-3PO cut in, and said, "The odds of counteracting this degree of a Class 7 space-time continuum flux, which evolved from a temporal disturbance, is exactly 2,594,003 to 1!"

"Never tell us the odds!" scolded Rex.

"And you said it was a good thing that we stopped!" retorted Skywalker, glancing at the bridge admiral, and Tarkin responded with a stink eye and a sneer. Kenobi rolled his eyes.

As the ship continued to rattle about, one bridge officer engaged the intercom system and called the attention of all the other passengers aboard. He explained the situation, describing the transformation of the anomaly and the state of their progress, and ended with the phrase, "Brace yourselves, men."

"Um, sir," said a clone officer to the Jedi General present, Shaak Ti.

"Yes, captain? What is it?" asked Ti, walking over to where the man was standing.

"General Skywalker's updates are incomplete. He and Kenobi have missed three set updates, and I'm not receiving any transmissions otherwise from them either. And there are no other Destroyers in the vicinity, either." Shaak pondered this information for a moment.

"Are there any peculiar circumstances around it?" inquired the Togruta Jedi.

"Ah, yes, sir. It was quite sudden. The updates were coming in steadily until about a day and a half ago, but I only assumed that was Skywalker being Skywalker. It's been too long…"

"Hmm. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. For a split second on the radar, I remember seeing indications of some kind of temporal fluctuation, and then it immediately vanished."

"Thank you, captain. I'll be in the conference room if you need me," she said, and then excused herself. She sent a transmission call through the holonet to the Jedi Council room and, thankfully, Master Yoda, the person Shaak wanted to speak to, answered the signal.

"Master Yoda," said she.

"Master Ti. Something to tell me, have you?" asked the old Jedi Master.

"Yes, Master. It seems Generals Skywalker and Kenobi have come out of contact, and our efforts in reaching them are unfruitful."

"Yes, know this already, I do."

"You know? How?"

"A vision, I had. A disturbance there is, in the Force. Generals Skywalker and Kenobi's disappearances, an accident, it was not. However, know the cause, I do not."

"Shouldn't we send out a search party to look for them?" suggested Ti.

"No. Do that, we must not. The same fate as Kenobi and Skywalker, befall them, it will."

"Then what should we do?"

"Gather more information on the disturbance, you must. Meditate. Find the cause. Resolve their disappearance, you must. Resolve it, **you can**."

"Yes, Master."

Power was down. Life support was off. Engines were shot. Controls damaged, panels and wires fried, fuel was leaking, and all internal systems were completely detached from the rest of the ship's functions. In a corner on the bridge, Obi-Wan Kenobi stirred awake. "Oh, dear…" he mumbled, touching his skull. "What in the name of the Force? What happened? Where are we? Anakin, are you here?" Kenobi stumbled about, trying to walk over unstable sheets of metal and avoiding dangling wires and other debris.

"Master?" moaned Skywalker.

"Anakin!" exclaimed Kenobi when he noticed the Jedi Knight under a pile of debris. "I'll dig you out, just hold on."

"Master Kenobi!" shouted Ahsoka. Anakin was able to stand after Kenobi cleared away some of the broken pieces of the _Reckless_. "Masters?" she said again. The two Jedi heard the young Padawan, but neither could lay an eye on her.

"Ahsoka? Where are you?" asked Skywalker.

"I'm down here, Master! Look through the floor!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth, trying to amplify the volume of her voice. Kenobi and Skywalker noticed a large, gaping hole in the floor of the bridge and they both moved toward it. As they leaned over to see down it, they caught sight of the Togrutan girl on the level below them. "Hi, Master!" she said and smiled.

"You're alright Ahsoka, aren't you?" called Skywalker.

"Yes, Master. I can't really say the same for Threepio, though," she replied, holding up the head of the golden droid. Anakin smirked.

"Threepio," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Hello, Master Anakin. Oh, how am I you ask? Just dandy, my other half is lying in the corner. Don't mind me," said the droid head, half-sarcastically. Just then, Captain Rex came running into the nose of the bridge from behind the Master Jedi, toting one blaster pistol in his right hand.

"Generals," he said. "All of the personnel are gone. They've vanished into thin air. The only ones I've been able to find, are the three of you, and the Admiral." Rex, despite his outward calmness, was quite uneasy at this discovery. Tarkin slowly walked in behind him.

"Are you sure, Captain?" asked Kenobi.

"Positive. There's no doubt, we're the only ones left onboard," affirmed the clone captain. "We should head outside to get a look at our environment."

"Agreed," said Kenobi.

The whole group, Skywalker, Kenobi, Captain Rex, the admiral who followed him, and Tano, carrying a bag with pieces of Threepio in it, and a toolbox in her hand, exited the Star Destroyer via the ramp in the hangar bay, probably the only working mechanism left on the ship. Shielding their eyes from the sun, they stepped onto the earth, and looked around. From what they could tell, they had crash-landed in some kind of countryside meadow somewhere. Rex had with him a hand-scanner, and was taking readings from the planet. "Where are we?" asked Skywalker.

"Beats me," said Tano. "I've never seen a planet like this on any maps before."

"Perhaps we've left the galaxy?" suggested Obi-Wan.

As they explored with their senses, Threepio was blabbering on about how dreadful being in pieces was, and how he should've been fixed immediately, and how he'd prefer to know what was going on than to be scared out of his circuits, but when he realized no one was listening to him, he shut up.

"More like the dimension, General Kenobi," Rex responded. "We're emitting temporal and sub-atomic particles. Although that's normally very dangerous, this seems to be a symptom of being temporally and continually displaced, and for some reason, it doesn't affect anything here." They continued to walk away from the ship, trying to figure out if the planet was inhabited or not.

"Anything else unusual to report, Captain?" asked Skywalker.

"Well… I'm detecting a lot of metals and minerals in the ground, the atmosphere is mostly oxygen and carbon dioxide, and… no, nothing else really unusual. I am picking up quite a few lifeforms in this area alone, so my guess would be this planet is inhabited, and probably has been for quite a long time. If it were bigger and covered in less water, it'd probably be as populous as Coruscant." As they discussed, they walked further and further along the meadow and away from the _Reckless_. Just then, the ship erupted into a violent display of glowing purple and blue as the ship separated from itself, molecule by molecule, atom by atom. As it dissolved, the particles of the ship flew high into the air, and swirled and spiraled like a great whirlpool, creating a big wind.

"Captain! What the heck is going on!?" yelled Tarkin as the group began to run.

"I-I don't know, sir! The ship suddenly deteriorated from the sub-atomic level! It's giving off huge amounts of radiation!" Then, a huge wormhole opened up in the sky and sucked up the little bits of their Destroyer until they were completely gone.

"Master!" exclaimed Ahsoka.

"Come on! We have to go **now**!" commanded Kenobi as they started their sprint again.

"I wholeheartedly agree!" affirmed the admiral. Unexpectedly, Captain Rex suddenly vanished, via a portal that appeared directly under his feet, and moved at his speed, and slowly swallowed him whole. As it disappeared from view, Anakin scrunched his nose, expressing anger. Afterwards, in quick procession, the rest of the group disappeared with him in the same manner, in the following order: Skywalker, Kenobi, Tano and Threepio together and Tarkin. When Tarkin reappeared alongside the rest of his party they were in a café in some urban area. Then, those same small vortexes ate them up once more and spewed them out at a train station, dressed in formal classic clothing from 20th century Earth. Not only were they redressed, but Threepio was repaired and also wearing similar suiting, and everyone's weapons were in convenient concealed places on each person.

More than a little bit confused, they decided to wander about the kiosks and help desks, and gather information about where they were.

Kenobi was the first to find a reflective surface, and when he did he motioned to everyone else to come and see their reflections in it. Kenobi was wearing a black dress suit and thin tie, and a monocle adorned his face. Anakin was dressed similarly, except his jacket had coat-tails and he arrived in the station carrying a walking stick that he immediately threw to Tarkin. The admiral and Captain Rex were dressed in more tweedish materials, but they still looked quite formal, especially with narrow glasses on Tarkin's nose and a fedora on Rex's head. Ahsoka was wearing a long-skirted, long-sleeved, satiny dress and ankle boots; even Threepio was dressed in a suit.

As Anakin and Ahsoka fussed over the clothes they thought didn't suit them in the least, Kenobi looked over his shoulder and noticed some familiar others… but, wasn't one of them supposed to be dead? On guard, he placed his hand on his saber hilt and kept his eye on them. Inevitably though, the Jedi were sensed out by those dark-siders, and immediately in their minds, they each blamed the other for this catastrophic mess.

Among these foes were Darths Sidious, Tyrannous (Count Dooku), and Nihilus, but for some reason, Jedi Master Mace Windu and bounty hunter Robonino accompanied them. Almost immediately, in front of a steadily increasing crowd of people, Dooku Force blasted Kenobi clear across the room and into some tourist's suitcases, his monocle now shattered. He rolled over, and stood up again. His face was angry, and his brow furrowed. Then, something exploded. (Probably one of Robonino's smoke bombs.) From the smoke emerged a tall fellow, unmistakably Count Dooku by the silvery beard, and his dark, black brows drawn tightly over his piercing, blue eyes. Obi-Wan took out his own lightsaber and ignited it, the blue blade glowing brightly. Dooku also revealed his curved hilt and the straight, red blade from his coat, and he assumed a stance. Armed with their swords, they dueled a while, a man in a top hat and another man in white clothing ushering people behind desks and walls and such.

"Dooku, you have no reason to fight me," said the Jedi Master, pressing against his opponent's sword with his own. "We know, as well as you do, you are behind this horrible mess."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Kenobi!" Dooku pressed back with much strength, knocking his enemy backwards, and then into the ground, his sword hilt sliding from his hand. Dooku held his sword to Kenobi's neck. "Now, what is it about this being my fault?"

Then Captain Rex, in his tweed suit coat, slacks and fedora, came up to the quarreling Force-users toting his sidearm. "Count Dooku, General Kenobi, please. If we are to resolve our dilemma, then we cannot afford to quarrel among ourselves!"

A dark figure emerged behind this voice of reason, his face hidden by the hood of his cloak. Darth Sidious. He said, "As much as I don't like saying this, the clone is right. We need to… work together, at this."

Dooku hesitated as he withdrew his lightsaber. "Yes, Master."

"Good, Lordy, gentlemen! I see someone has gotten up on the wrong side of the bed!" exclaimed the man in white raiment, hurrying over to these interesting individuals.

"More like the universe, good sir," replied Kenobi.

"Ahh, hushushushush," said the man, putting his hand on Kenobi's shoulder, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I know you are not from this world, but let's not draw too much attention to ourselves. Come, come, you will accompany us to Wolverhampton!" Then he scuffled over to the kiosk and purchased train tickets for all his new acquaintances.

"What is Wolverhampton?" asked Dooku.

"A city, of course! Come, come, come, you must join us!"

"What reason have we to trust you?" asked the hooded Sidious.

"Well, for one thing, if you trust me, there is a nice chance I can return you all home. And for another thing," he paused and looked around, "I can protect you. There are some in this world who would take a happenstance such as this a little too personally. Now, come, come, Wolverhampton is waiting, and so is Mr. Layton's friend! Hurry, hurry, we must get on with the show, now! I will explain everything on the train!"


	3. Day 1: Someone Scream Bloody Murder!

**Day 1: Someone Scream "Bloody Murder!"**

The next morning, a great crowd of nearly everyone onboard the train was gathered in the dining car, whispering and chattering among them. Luke, Layton and Emmy came from the lodging cars and wriggled their way through the crowd after noticing the doctor and the rest of their new found companions all toward the front. "What's all the hubbub?" asked Luke as they came toward the center. They all gasped in shock and horror as they beheld the body of Dr. Emmerich Frei lying on the ground, a knife in his hand, and in a pool of his own blood!

"My stars!" exclaimed Layton. "What on earth…?" The Professor kneeled down beside the dead body of the doctor. "Oh dear…" He tugged on his hat to hide his eyes.

"Oh… Professor. The poor doctor," said Luke, saddened by the scene.

"Who could've done this?" asked Emmy, assuming a thinking posture. As the Professor continued kneeling on the ground, he examined the body, yet he obtained nothing much more than the obvious: abrasions all over his hands and his face, a slit in his throat, blood dried around it, and a dribble of it at the corners of his mouth, as well… "Hm? What's this?" said the Professor aloud to no one in particular.

"What've you got, Professor?" asked Emmy.

"Alright, outta my way!" exclaimed a voice. "Police officers, coming through!" Layton stood as the two officers made room for themselves in the dining car. "Who are you, Schnazzy Hat, eh?" said the taller of the two.

"Ah, Professor Hershel Layton," informed he, tipping his hat.

"Oh. Well, what are you doing standing so close to the body? You could be compromising evidence! Stand aside," he declared. "I am Inspector Giuseppe Lorimar of Scotland Yard, and this is my associate, Henry Cho." The shorter man smiled and bowed slightly.

"We're taking over this investigation and there's no need for anyone to interfere!" The inspector was there not 15 minutes studying the scene when he declared, "This is a suicide! Case closed." He then began to direct bystanders to assist him and his friend on cleaning up the dining car, and some train employees assisted him also.

"Hold on, if you please," said Layton, loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone gathered round the obvious controversy the Professor was soon to make. The Jedi and the rest of the "minutemen" as they were referred to as, were at the front of this crowd. Kenobi and Threepio, specifically, was interested in how Layton would prove the man wrong.

"See here, now! I said **NO INTERFERANCE**!"

"Inspector, you declared far too quickly the status of this crime scene," said the Professor, pacing, and holding his chin in his hand.

"Aaalrighty, then, Layton, if that **is** your name; tell me! How is this **not** a suicide? The man is holding a knife in his hand! There are no signs of any other individuals having been in the room! Elaborate, man!"

"You see, that is where you are wrong. Notice the position in which the knife is in the victim's hand," he said, kneeling down and pointing to it. "The blunt edge of the knife is facing him, not the sharp edge. Also, he is grasping it in a reverse manner, making it impossible for him to have slit his own throat at that angle. And, also notice the position of the hand. There's no way, with the fingers aligned in such a manner, that anyone could clasp anything in their hand. Also, don't you think slitting oneself in the throat is an odd manner in which to end one's life? If I, for instance, were to think of committing something so horrible, I would do it in a swift and painless manner. This would cause quite a bit of pain before death. And then, there's the matter of this." The Professor held up a sapphire studded cufflink.

"Fell off the body," said Lorimar.

"Au contraire, my good man. You see, Dr. Frei has both cufflinks on his shirt, and those, deducted through the course of seeing him every day for almost a week, are the only sort he wears."

"Then it fell off someone present."

"Is anyone missing a cufflink, perchance?" asked Layton, holding it up. "Anyone? No one?" Of course, there _was_ someone present who was missing a cufflink, but he wouldn't dare claim it. Layton and the inspector exchanged glances. "Inspector, I believe this is not a suicide. No. This is nothing more than murder; in cold blood."

*DUN DUN* (Like in Law and Order)

"I am afraid," Layton began, before being cut off.

"There are traitors here!" exclaimed Celeste, jumping away from the crowd of people who she had recently acquainted. "You people! Don't just stand there, help the Professor figure out who did this!"

FINAL SETTING: THE DINING CAR ON THE TRAIN TO WOLVERHAMPTON, WHERE THE BODY WAS FOUND

YOU MAY NOW DISCUSS WHO YOU THINK IS SCUM!

GOOD LUCK EVERYONE!


	4. Midday 1: First Votes

Don Paolo looked at everyone. So frantic, he thought. Heh. Pathetic. They're certainly chatting up a storm... but just all this talking and throwing accusations won't get us anywhere... Then he noticed Celeste, who somehow seemed to be heading up this strange circus. Then, he had the idea.

"Miss Mordecai," he called.

"Yes, Mr. Paolo?" she replied, turning her head to listen to him. "I've got a way for you to organize this cloud of chaos, if you'll hear me." Celeste raised a brow.

"I'm listening."

Everyone, please listen up," said Celeste, clapping her little hands at the front of the room. Everyone's eyes turned to her. "Now," she began, motioning to Paolo, unexpectedly, "Don Paolo and I have come up with a system to finding these traitors."

"Yes," agreed Don. "All this killing has got me excited, not in a good way though, and I'll tell ya right now, I'm not croaking next!" Celeste coughed and looked at him sternly, indicating he should quit his ranting. "Ahem. Anyway, each day you will all cast your vote for who you believe is the most suspicious person here."

"It's efficient, since then we can have potential threats to our goal extinguished," she added, nodding.

"Though, the idea was all pretty much mine, the lass helped nonetheless," clarified Paolo indignantly. "I assume all this talking among yourselves has gotten a few of you to distrust. So anyway, VOTING IS NOW OPEN!"


	5. Day 1 Conclusion

Celeste and Paolo looked on at everyone as they talked and talked and talked; it seemed endless. Everyone was accusing each other... even those who once had been friends. What were they to do? Would a conclusion ever be reached? Everyone had been shaken up, tossed around and picked apart that day. Everyone tried to seem loyal, but many of them failed, and had suspicions put upon them for one reason or another. No one was left who wasn't suspected.

At the end of the day, however, a conclusion was reached, finally.

"Alright, who's the victim, here?" asked Paolo, stroking his mustache. Dimitri Allen was shoved to the front of the room by the others. He looked at this group of people who had turned on him. At first he was upset, but after a moment, he accepted his fate. But, what was that, now? Did death await him? Prison? Isolation? Certainly a reprimand from his boss, if ever he laid hand on him again.

"There he is, Paolo. He's the one we think is scum," replied everyone else rather decisively. Then, satisfied with their conviction, Don snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Dimitri vanished.

"Paolo, where has he gone!?" exclaimed the professor suddenly out of fear of something Don may or may not have been planning.

"Don't worry, Layton, he's perfectly safe... maybe. Eheheheheh." Paolo laughed evilly, seeming to enjoy himself and the control he now had over this group of people. Perhaps he was planning something...

Layton sighed. "What is it, Professah?" asked Luke, looking up at him with kind eyes.

"Nothing, Luke. It's just been a long day. Everyone, we should get to the sleeping cars and into bed. It's late, and we've all been through all kinds of drama today."

The Professor was the last to go to bed. For a while, he stood upon an open deck holding his hat by the brim as the wind blew harshly all about him. He was thinking on many things, and yet, about nothing. Today had rattled him so much. What was he to do?

Then, the sliding door leading back toward the other cars was opened, and in the doorway stood the oddly-dressed Descole. He started at seeing the Professor. "I didn't think anyone else was awake," said he.

"It appears that is not so,"replied Layton. "Is something troubling you?"

Descole placed his chin in his hand and was silent for a moment. "No, not particularly... although that unexpected death... certainly has got me thinking. Are we really being targeted by some criminal mastermind?"

"I can't say, for certain."

"It just seems so odd... we were assisting the doctor to get these strange people from another world back home, and then he up and dies, and yet we continue."

"I have no intention of breaking Dr. Frei's promise."

"Hmph. You are an odd man, Layton. Very odd, indeed."

Layton laughed a bit. "In retrospect," he said, "I suppose we all are. Well, I think I'll be off to bed now. Good evening, Descole."


	6. Day 2: We're Off to See Mr Mordecai

Captain Rex was alone in a room on a strange transportation device in a strange world. It felt interesting to be unique somewhere for once. The only one who has his face on that watery world, he was. He sat on his bed and breathed. It was good to relax. His helmet with blue Jaig eyes sat atop the night stand beside the bed. It seemed to be beckoning him to adorn it once more. He stood and walked toward it, and then was quickly bashed over the head, dumped into a body bag and swiftly taken away.

It was now morning. The train was literally minutes away from Wolverhampton, and everyone got up early (whether or not it was in their own intentions) and packed away all their things so they would be ready for dismount and baggage claim at the next train station. Everyone was solemn and gloomy as they gathered in the dining car to eat breakfast; the previous day had taken more of a toll than anyone thought it would.

Dr. Frei kept piles and piles of notes and theories and everything of that kind in stacks and stacks of fat manila folders, and these things were given to Layton, not for keepsake, but it seemed now that he had to lead these people home, but he had no idea how the happenstance of their arriving here had to do with any mass disappearance that happened to an old friend of his all the way in Wolverhampton. In these folders and notebooks, he hoped to gain some kind of understanding of Dr. Frei's mind; of his temporal theories. Apparently, they would have to play around with the very fabric of space-time in order to get these odd individuals home. At breakfast, even, Layton read over and compared some of the doctor's notes, hoping to find something useful.

"Professah," began Emmy as she leaned toward Layton to look at the pages in his hands. "What's all that mumbo-jumbo you're reading?"

"Far from that, Emmy," Layton clarified. "These are Dr. Frei's notes on space-time theory."

"Well, do we need that for something?"

"It would appear so. I've found indications in these notes that Frei definitely had a plan to get these people home. It also appears that getting them home also requires solving this case I've been asked to tend to, but I can't for the life of me, figure out why."

"Ooo, so this puzzle's even stumped the great Professor Layton!" Emmy exclaimed, rather too excitedly in the professor's opinion. "Let me try!" and then she swiped some notes and began to study them.

"Emmy, the professah can work it out for himself, he's a grown man," said Luke with his mouth full.

"Luke, please mind your manners," said the professor, sipping from his tea.

"Oh," Luke swallowed his food, "sorry, Professah."

Anakin, Obi-Wan and Mace were all sitting at one round table, talking to themselves about everything that had happened since they arrived in this strange place. Many weird things. Then, Anakin noticed he hadn't seen his faithful clone officer recently. "Hey, has anyone seen Rex around?" he inquired. Everyone looked around for the stout man, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe someone should check his quarters," suggested Mace.

"I'll go," volunteered Kenobi. He marched down the hallways of two cars and turned to open the door of Rex's room. But he couldn't the door was jammed. After jiggling the handle some more, he gave up, and used the Force to move the door. There was no sign of the clone trooper.

Kenobi went back to everyone else. "Rex is gone," he said. "I believe now that these scum we theorized existed really are among us, and that this is their doing. We must eliminate them as quickly as we can; it seems that if they did this once, they wouldn't hesitate to do it again."

"Agreed, Mr. Kenobi," said Layton.

As most everyone finished their food and drink, over the intercom system, the train conductor announced that they would be arriving in Wolverhampton in ten minutes.

"Alright everyone," announced Paolo, "let's get a move on now! Grab your stuff, and let's be ready to get off this train."

Everyone followed his lead as they were about to enter the car in which was the exit. Layton was leading up the rear of the group making sure no one got separated. Clip, clop, clip, clop, came a noise. It was someone's loud footfalls coming from directly behind Layton, but he paid it no mind. Then came a voice. "Layton, old chap, you can't really forget me, can you?" it said. Layton flinched and gasped. He recognized that enthusiastic tenor. It could only belong to one person in the whole wide world... Slowly, he turned his body to face the person to who the voice belonged to. The Professor's eyes widened and he gasped again, jaw dropped. To his surprise, incomprehension, and slight horror, there stood Doctor Emmerich Frei, dressed in his normally abnormal way, walking toward him, waving his walking stick in the air. Frei placed an arm around Layton and smiled. "Whatever is the matter, my friend?"

"W-well," began the professor, pulling his hat brim over his eyes nervously, "I think I shall explain later." The Professor looked at Frei's neck, where some kind of trace of the slit should have been, but there was nothing. No wound, no scar, nothing. There was something very off about this. Extremely off.

"I keep telling you silly, silly people, I AM the real Emmerich Frei!" exclaimed he, with excited arm gestures. Everyone stood with skeptical faces. "Really, I am! What on this good, green earth would make you distrust me so suddenly!?"

"Well, perhaps it is because you died yesterday," said the gold plated automaton.

"Oh, yes, I did, didn't I? Ahahahahahaha!" The doctor behaved as if it was the most normal thing in the world; to be raised from the dead.

"You were dead! We saw the blood and the knife and the slit in your neck!" exclaimed Luke, pointing a finger in the face of the man who he thought only pretended to be the real doctor.

"Now, now, Luke," said Frei calmly, pushing his hand down gently, "I know you never liked me much, but can't we be on good terms at least for a bit? I did die yesterday, you know." He smiled quite pleasantly.

"Oh, will you all give it a rest already!" yelled Paolo, who had become impatient. "It doesn't matter if he's the real thing or not, we have to go. They'll put our baggage in a warehouse if we don't claim it NOW!"

"I'm afraid he's right, we have no more time for any dillydallying," agreed Layton. "My friend is expecting me soon, and I'd prefer not to keep him waiting. Celeste, if you wouldn't mind to lead the way, that would be splendid."

"Of course, Professor. Everyone, this way, please!"

As they exited the train and stepped out into eveningtime Wolverhampton, some of them stood in awe. Even though it seemed primitive in their eyes, the shining lights and tall buildings and cars moving about in all directions seemed overwhelming.

Descole stepped forward and took a deep breath. "Ahh, Wolverhampton! I remember it well from my youth," he declared.

"Descole," said Sidious, except he pronounced it "des-coal" instead of "des-co-lay". "What is all of this?"

"It's a city, my evil friend," he replied. "Normal people would know that."

"We're from different universes, it's not like you seem all that normal to me, chicken man."

"What did you call me!?"

"Now, now, we're all friends here, please, settle down," said Layton as pleasantly as he could. He was almost irritated since these little bickering fights happened often between everyone.

"Yes, you might want to all get comfortable with each other!" called Celeste. "It's a still a long way to the heart of the city! A few hours, most likely!" She motioned for everyone to hurry. "Come along, everyone! My father's waiting! But, while we walk, you all can still discuss all you like. Don't let me stop you."


	7. Midday 2: Let's Vote Off Another Scum!

The unusual group walked and took trolleys about Wolverhampton, and soon they approached the heart of the city, where the tallest buildings were. They soared into the atmosphere, seemingly splitting the sky where they stood. Spires pointed towards the heavens and the sun shone down on them, making them shine and sparkle like porcelain things. Trolley and street, they proceeded on, until they came to a building; the tallest and shiniest of them all, and it seemed to be in the very literal center of the entire town. As they entered inside it, everything glittered and gleamed. It was perfectly clean, almost sterile, and everything was very modern and sleek and futuristic, in a way.

"Please, come this way," said Celeste. The whole group followed. "Uhm, my father only expects Layton on personal business, so would you all please wait in the lobby?" Then, the group except Layton dispersed, and they started to walk around and inspect all the odds and ends and angles and such in the building.

"Actually," began Layton, "Celeste, would you mind if Luke tagged along?"

"Not at all."

"Come, Luke, we've got a CEO to meet, haha."

"Coming, Professah!" exclaimed Luke, and he dashed to Layton's side. Up the elevator they went, to the hundredth floor, where Clyde Mordecai's office was.

"Please mind your volume, it can be quite echoey in here," explained Celeste as she led. They then came up to the receptionists' desk.

"Miss Mordecai!" said the woman at the desk.

"Hello, Mrs. Holly," she replied. "Is my father free?"

"I'll ask him."

"Tell him Hershel Layton is here. He is expected."

"Oh, yes!"

The woman pressed some buttons and said a few words before announcing to Layton, Celeste and Luke that they were allowed to go in. The professor swung the double doors open to see a huge room with windows 15 feet tall that stretched around a bit more than half of the perimeter that was along the north wall. The décor here was similar to the style downstairs; modern and sleek and very sophisticated, for a man of sophistication. In the center of the room was a long desk, perhaps 10 feet or so, and behind it was a tall, wingback leather chair that apparently was facing the wrong way. Slowly, it turned, revealing that there was in fact a man sitting in the chair. It was Mr. Clyde Mordecai, CEO of the company. He wasn't old looking or gray, but he was young and spirited, but his aura and his glasses caused this mature presence; one that was wise, and comforting and patient.

Mr. Mordecai smiled pleasantly at the sight of his friend and rose to his feet to greet him.

"Hershel Layton, is that you?" he asked, hardly believing his eyes (that couldn't see very well to begin with).

"Indeed it is," replied the professor, tipping his hat and smiling. "Clyde, you're looking well, and, seeing from this enormous room and that big chair, you're certainly making out quite alright."

"Haha! Oh, Hershel, that is an understatement!" he said, happily. "How have you got on since last we met?"

"Fairly well, I'd say, old friend. Certainly not as astoundingly as you, to be sure, but I have nonetheless."

"I'm sure you found your way without trouble?"

"Indeed. Celeste was a wonderful guide." Layton smiled and Clyde looked to his daughter with a grin and a twinkle in his eye.

"And is that little Luke Triton, who I've heard so much about?" he exclaimed. Luke puffed out his chest, feeling a bit important.

"Yes, sir, that's me," he said, pointing his thumb at himself.

"I think that's enough pleasantries," Layton insisted. "Your letter sounded quite urgent. May I ask for details?"

"Certainly, Hershel.

"Well, to start with, I mentioned those disappearances in my letter. Just before you came, I've been getting calls from the family members of those who disappeared. It seems that, slowly, they are being returned to their daily lives. It is so puzzling, Hershel; none of them are harmed in any way.

"But then... oh..." Clyde paused for a moment and looked to Celeste, who had already been watching Layton and her father and Luke. "Hon, I think you should come sit down." After she did, Clyde continued: "My wife has vanished." Celeste's eyes flew wide open.

"What!? Mum?" she exclaimed.

"Unfortunately, my pearl, it's sadly true. One morning, she just wasn't there, and I've no idea where she went. That's why I called you, Hershel. No client of yours has ever been disappointed. I trust you to solve my case.

"Don't worry," said Layton. "I've got it covered."

Layton, Luke and Celeste reappeared in the lobby suddenly. "Alright, we best find a hotel room, or several, to stay in, while we go out to try and solve this case," announced Layton with decision.

"Very good, Layton, old chap! Hurry, hurry, let's go now! Come, come, everyone!"

When they arrived at the hotel, Dr. Frei left Celeste to take care of the hotel rooms for everyone, while the whole group went out to begin research. While they walked and talked, at one point, Don Paolo was able to have audience with Emmerich, and he relayed to him the voting system he and Celeste had come up with the day before. Emmerich was fascinated.

"Speaking of which," said Paolo, "I should probably tell everyone that voting is open now."

"Allow me," said the good doctor. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an airhorn. Then, he covered his ears and pressed the button.

"OK, everyone! That horn means that VOTING IS NOW OPEN!"


	8. Day 2 Conclusion

"Professah, where shall we begin?" asked Emmy as she walked at Layton's side.

"Well, I would believe we would head to the local police station, to get some professional details," the professor replied. "Although," he continued, "it's becoming late. I think a good night's sleep is in order.

At this corner was a large four-lane street, and the group crossed it without anyone being run over. (However, Solo did have to save the smart golden automaton from being crushed under tons of metal and rubber.) "Watch yourself, Threepio! You'll get yourself killed in this town," complained Han.

"Oh, do forgive me. Thank you, however, for saving me."

"Yeah, yeah."

Just then, something, or someone, growled. The professor turned his head to look behind him, and he discovered that it was the loud grumbling of his companions' stomachs. He laughed and smiled.

"I suppose supper is a but overdue. What say you we stop for a bite?"

"Yes, we've been looking everywhere to see if there was someplace to eat, because we are starving!" agreed everyone else (except Threepio of course.) Celeste showed everyone into a dive with burgers and beer to keep everyone happy. The servers all gathered and dashed here and there trying to serve 14 different, and mostly difficult and demanding customers. When Dr. Frei had received his pint, he stood up on his chair to get his group's attention.

"Alrighty, everyone!" he yelled, banging his wooden cane against te tabletop. "The scum, at least who we think are scum, are not allowed to partake of merriment and a good beer! Who've you decided to be rid of today?"

Dooku pushed Darth Bane out of his seat abruptly, and the ancient Sith Lord fell on his hands and knees. He looked up at Emmerich, Celeste and Paolo with disgust, but, although powerful he was, he did nothing in fear of revealing his teammates. "I'll accept it," he said. "What will you do to me?" And at that moment, Don Paolo snapped his fingers, and Bane vanished. Emmerich looked over at him nervously.

"I do wonder how you do that, ahaha..."


	9. Day 3: I Guess We're On Our Own

That night, the Professor stayed up late going over notes. These were the notes that belonged to Dr. Frei. Emmerich let him keep some of them because, should something else happen to the good doctor, they shall be prepared to guide their strange visitors back home; wherever their home was, whether miles, lightyears or dimensions away.

In addition to the doctor's notes, Layton made some of his own in his journal. Temporal-space theory was quite fascinating and difficult to understand, so writing notes as he studied Frei's helped him think through and understand everything he could, although certain things still did confuse him, no matter how many notes he made.

Something fell with a clunk to the ground right outside the professor's room. Who else could be up at such an unbecoming hour? Curious, Layton stood from his chair and peered out the door, but he beheld nothing but inanimate objects sitting in the darkness. And then, that same darkness consumed him.

Everyone was down in the hotel's breakfast room, eating and munching and sipping and, well, almost choking, on lots of different breakfast items. Everyone was very loud and noisy and messy and kind of gross, and the lone waitress did her very best to accommodate them all.

This is when the doctor walked down the steps, his cane in-hand, as he inspected his odd group. He counted them. One, two, three... twelve? Only twelve?

"Luke, my boy!" Emmerich called. "Have you seen the Professor?"

"No, I haven't seen him this morning," replied Luke, taking a big bite of a Danish. "I thought he overslept because he stayed up all night again."

"Hmm..."

Emmerich marched his way trough several bystanders and went to the elevator, taking it to the 5th floor, where most everyone's rooms were. He barged in to the Professor's room; he found it empty, except for the furniture. The window was open, and the breeze it let in made the window's curtains flutter and dance. "My word..." said he under his breath. Luke had followed Dr. Frei, and he gasped when he looked into the room and saw no trace of Layton.

The doctor's countenance became dark. "Those bloody scum... Without Layton's intelligence, solving this case will prove significantly more difficult.." He put his hand under his chin and thought for a moment.

That moment was how long it took for little Luke to get his courage and tap Dr. Frei's shoulder. "I can solve this case," he said, looking Emmerich square in the face. "I can do it in the professor's place. I know I can."

Emmerich smiled kindly at the boy and placed his hand on his head. "Can you?"

"Yes! I'll prove it!"

"Good deal, Luke. Let's go, everyone's waiting."

When Dr. Frei reentered the breakfast room, everyone was still talking, and most people had stopped stuffing themselves silly. He stepped up on a table, blew his horn and smacked the tip of his cane on the surface.

"Now that you're all quiet," he began, "you all can start listening. Professor Layton has been kidnapped," he declared. Everyone began to murmur. "Hush, hush! This isn't as big a problem as we think it is. We can still solve this case without him, and, assuming he's still alive, he'll still be around to help us when we recover him and that Rex fellow those scum kidnapped before. We'll make them pay... they'll all pay for messing with the wrong doctor..."

As the professor suggested the previous day, everyone headed out and toward the local police station. On Emmerich's orders, everyone save he, Celeste and Luke waited outside the building.

Dr. Frei charged forward, ignoring the officer on duty (who was sleeping anyway) and whenever someone tried to stop or redirect him and his small companions, he flashed an ID card and was left alone. He barged into the head detective's office where he was sitting going through paperwork. Upon the good doctor's unexpected entry, the detective jumped and overreacted.

"Who are you lot, and just what are you doing in my office without authorization?"

"Oh, we have authorization," said Emmerich, flashing his ID.

"Oh, well..." the detective said, straightening himself. "What can I do for...wait...didn't you...weren't you the dead man on the express train!?" exclaimed he.

"Well, Detective Lorimar, ahaha, yes, I was! Isn't that something? Ahahahaha! Ahem. But anyway, that isn't why I'm here. I need the investigation documentations on the mass-disappearance cases from about a week or so ago."

"Oh, those cases? Sure, they're right here. There's almost nothing on them, so don't expect them to be of much help."

"Very good, sir. Thank you. Also, do you happen to have the case file on the investigation in London? The one involving the huge vortex in the sky?"

"Hmm... let me see... oh, here... ah, that's weird... normally we don't get London cases this early."

"May I see that?" Emmerich took the file and inspected its contents briefly. "That should do. Thank you very much for your service, and have a lovely day!" He then ushered Luke and Celeste out the door and led them back to their group.

When they saw him approaching, he blew his air horn once more. "Come along! We have work to do. Oh, but don't forget to discuss!"


	10. Midday 3: Third Time's the Charm?

The Professor woke up with a pounding headache, in a room with almost no light, and he was bound to a chair and gagged. He struggled around to see if he could get free, and the cloth that was wrapped round his mouth fell loose. He examined the room as best he could (there was very little light in which to see), and discovered Captain Rex, the one who was kidnapped before he. Rex was awake and looked frightfully solemn when he made eye contact with Layton. The professor said nothing.

"Should be begin?" asked a voice. It came from outside the door.

"We can begin, if you'd like," replied a second voice.

"The rest of you can have fun with the captain," said a third voice. "The professor is mine."

"No," said a fourth and commanding voice. "Nothing happens to them without my say-so, you imbeciles!"

"Of course, Maestro," said a fifth voice. "It's not as if we'd really disobey you. You don't think that badly of us, right?"

"Not yet, I don't. But if you screw up, our mission becomes that much harder. Not that you haven't screwed up already by losing Sorrow and Passion so early on."

"It doesn't matter," said the third voice. "We've replaced them anyhow, and believe me, Eclipse, we're very close to winning. I can feel it."

"Very well, Pride, if you think you can handle yourself here, then fine. But this team houses the last of your allies. Do not underestimate your enemy. If you do, that will be our downfall."

Being in the next room, the professor and Rex were able to hear everything. They both looked at each other earnestly. How are we going to get out of this mess? both pairs of eyes seemed to say. Rex then looked up. There was a window, high above their heads. It was their lifeline.

"While this group of individuals continued to talk and accuse, Dr. Frei and Celeste were asking random people questions on the disappearances and the vortex case, digging for information and hoping for leads. "Celeste, take notes of what these people are saying; anything could help us."

"Yes, Dr. Frei, of course," she replied, scribbling something down.

As they walked, Frei lead up the head and Paolo pushed the rear along. Emmerich flipped through the pages of the case files, his cane swinging about from the crook of his elbow, when something dawned upon his realization. His eyes shot open wide, and he gasped, rereading some little bit of data to make sure he wasn't mistaken. "Emmy!" he called loudly into the mass. "Miss Altava!" said he again, urgently.

"Yes, doctor?" she replied, jogging up to him from somewhere in the middle of their throng. "What is it?"

"If you wouldn't mind so much, Emmy, would you do me a tremendous favor?"

"Anything you need!" she responded cheerfully, winking an eye.

"I need you to head back to London as quickly as possible, to run a few errands for me."

Everyone else was still just talking and walking and plotting and accusing, and so, since they didn't have much else to do, the good doctor sounded his airhorn again, in a public place, no less.

As Emmy ran down the street trying to hail a taxicab, Emmerich almost swung his cane into Anakin's face and called out, "VOTING IS NOW OPEN!"


	11. Day 3 Conclusion

Questioning random passersby wasn't getting them anywhere. Nowhere. It was a big waste of time to continue doing this, when they all knew they were only going nowhere, fast. Emmerich sighed, and looked up, half-expecting the answer to then suddenly dawn upon him. But all he saw was the cloudy sky, the sunlight escaping through the gaps in between. What happened now? Asked he to himself. What would Layton do? Then, he looked away from the sky and down to the tarmac below his boots. He smiled.

"Come everyone!" he yelled. Everyone was just talking. Then Emmerich blew his airhorn again, and they paid attetion. "Honestly..." he murmured, shaking his head. "Anyway, I have a theory as to how the mass-disappearances occurred, but before we march forward and investigate it, who've you lot voted off?"

Obi-Wan and Anakin led their once-comrade Mace Windu to the awaiting doctor.

"A Jedi, eh? Hard to believe," said Frei. "Well, according to everyone's wishes, you're gone now, Master Jedi. Apologies." He grinned, and then Don Paolo stepped beside Frei and snapped his fingers; Mace immediately vanished, like Dimitri and Bane before him. "Now, with that aside," the good doctor continued, "let us head to the offices where the incident occurred. I'll be better able to test my theory there."

A cloud of smoke danced away from the lips of a man. He was dressed in trenchcoat and fedora, and his eyes were concealed by dark sunglasses. A shadow consumed his form, and so he was barely noticeable. He was a spy, and he had been watching Dr. Emmerich Frei and his strange throng of men all along their journey. Whether Frei knew this or not, the man did not know.

He threw his cigarette on the floor and stomped on it with his foot, slightly stepping out into the light. Then, another man emerged from the darkness behind him. He looked similar, except he had a leather jacket in place of a trenchcoat and despised smoking with a passion. He was the first man's partner.

"What do you think?" said the first man.

"About Emmerich? Heh, he probably doesn't even know we're here," replied the second man.

"Why's the boss after him, anyway?"

"Dunno. Thought he had beef with Descole and that Layton character."

"Well, at least we can do our job without any worries, eh?"

"Yeah. That doctor, his friends and all our enemies shall fall."


	12. Day 4: Trial and Error

Rex's knees shook underneath the weight of the Professor. "Just a little higher!" Layton whispered. Rex strained himself to hoist his friend up. The window was much higher up that it had seemed.

"Ahhh... ohh, I can't do this for much longer, Professor," said Rex through clenched teeth.

"Just a little more..."

Then suddenly, the door slammed against the inside wall as it flew open, and a hooded, masked figure appeared in the doorway. The noise alone startled the duo, and they both fell to the ground. "Trying to escape, eh? Ahahahah! I'll fix that," said the man evilly. He beat Rex first, over the head and then jabbed him deeply in his gut with a wooden pole. Then he whacked Layton suddenly, and his hat flew off. "That was nothing like the severe beating I could have given you. The next time you're caught, you will wish you had never been born."

"Oi, Hostility! Leave 'em be, we got another prisoner here!"

"Oh, who have we this time?"

"This old dude," said Pride. "I don't like old people. They're so ridiculous sometimes." The scum threw Darth Sidious in with Rex and Layton, and he landed with a thud and a loud pop.

"Oh, my back!" exclaimed Sidious.

"Shut up and sit tight! If you do that we won't hurt you."

"Uhm... what are you doing?" inquired Luke to Emmerich. The doctor was leaning over to look under desks, getting on his knees to check chairs, hunching over and searching through wastebaskets and even using stepladders to check the surveillance cameras.

"Aha!" he shouted, startling two or three people.

"What is it, Dr. Frei?" asked Luke again.

"Holographic projectors," he replied sternly.

"Come again?"

"Holographic projectors!" he repeated. "That's how it was simulated."

"It was simulated?" echoed Anakin in disbelief. "How could someone from your world have technology from ours?"

"The space-time rifts," said Obi-Wan. "It probably altered the continuity of certain objects."

"Precisely, my ginger Jedi friend! Can you tell me anything about it?" said Emmerich.

"This is just a small standard projector, nothing too complex, but it could definitely do what you're suggesting it has done."

"Then it is more likely my theory is correct. To confirm it, let us move on to the second location! Come, come, come, no dillydallying!"

"Wait," said Count Dooku, looking around the room. "Where's Sidious?" Everyone looked around for the old Sith with Dooku, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Bloody scum stole one of us again!" exclaimed Frei forlornly.

The second office complex appeared worn-down and old, whereas the first seemed brand-new and in the best condition it could have possibly been in. Emmerich thought it was shady, and Celeste made a note. They entered in the front door, that actually seemed broken, and no one was there. All the lights were off and what light was there was only what was let it through the glass doors and windows. What happened here?

Eventually, Dr. Frei was able to set his sights on a security camera, and he found the same type of holographic projector that was in the cameras of the other building. "Success," he whispered to himself.

"Dr. Frei, it's awfully eerie in here. Can we leave now?" asked Luke, hugging himself.

"No, Luke! My senses tell me there are still clues to be uncovered! Everyone, investigate the area! Oh, but don't forget to discuss!"


	13. Day 4 Conclusion

Emmerich came out of a closet that he was searching in, his cane hanging from his arm and dusting himself off. "Well, it seems our Obi-Wan has been accused of being one of those traitorous ones, hm? Well, like I said before, it's difficult to believe Master Jedi would betray his friends and endanger everyone's chances of getting home, but," he paused and sighed, "I must abide by the wishes of the group. Kenobi, please."

"You're all making a mistake," he said. "When the scum win, don't come to me for help." Then Don Paolo snapped his fingers once more, and Kenobi vanished into the darkness.

"Heh," laughed Paolo. "That might be all..."

"All?" asked Dr. Frei. "All of what?"

"Oh, don't you mind," he replied. "I was only talking to myself." Don smirked and walked along with the remaining members of the group as they continued to investigate the tall, dark, ominous building.

As they searched floor after floor, the hours drew on longer and longer. Time seemed to pass at a much slower rate. When they finally reached the top floor, it was almost midnight.

"Not the kind of progress I was hoping for," mumbled Frei to himself.

"What... do you think this place is?" asked Luke. "It hardly seems like a workplace."

"Beats me," replied Celeste. "Creepy enough to be a tomb, I'd say." Luke, nevertheless, put on a brave front. He was going to solve this case and avenge his professor, one way or the other, and there was nothing that could stop him.

There was a room that occupied the center of the top floor; some kind of big-shot executive's office. Everyone entered the room, surprised to find the lights on. The room was all mahogany and oak, and it glistened with warm colors and rustic homeliness. There was a desk and big, leather chair behind it in the middle of the room, but the back of the chair faced them instead of the front. Running along the back horizontally were ropes. Ropes...? How does that make sense? Dr. Frei adjusted the fedora on his head and marched toward the desk. "Excuse me," he said. The chair slowly spun round, till the front faced them instead of the back. When the face of the one sitting in the chair was visible, everyone jumped when they saw-Emmy Altava. "Dear sweet Lord, Miss Emmy! What in all the heavens are you doing here!?" exclaimed the doctor, he and others frantically trying to untie her, when Anakin ignited his lightsaber and cut through them. Luke quickly removed the gag on her mouth.

"Emmy, what on Earth happened?" He listened to her pant for a fee moments before she responded.

"It... was..." But then suddenly, everyone gasped and became wide-eyed. Emmy tried to take a breath, but she found it difficult and so she had no breath with which to complete her sentence. As her lungs tried to fill themselves with oxygen, she glanced at her shoulder where she felt a little pressure, and saw a dart protruding. That was the last thing she remembered.


	14. The Conclusion: Part One

Han went investigating the building by himself, unwisely. "I can take care of myself!" he said quietly to himself. I don't need anyone around me. Why are we even digging around this scrap-pile, anyway? I don't even know what we're looking for… and yet, I'm looking for it… oh, whatever… I guess I'll know it when I see it or something." He dug through some file cabinets and desk drawers and stuff, but he didn't find anything unusual or that seemed particularly important to anything or anybody. Most of it was just useless paper. "Why does anyone need any of this? And people get paid money to handle all this paper? Weird…" Suddenly he jerked his hand away from a sheet he had touched and looked at it. "Blood…?" Then it began to sting, and he stuck it in his mouth. "Stupid paper…" And then something broke as it came into contact with his skull.

"I demand that you imbeciles show yourselves right this instant!" exclaimed Dr. Frei as loudly as his lungs would allow him. He bore his teeth and took deep, fast breaths. "You have no right to attack a peaceful group!"

"This," said a voice, "is war."

"And, no matter what any rulebook says, no war is ever fair," said a second voice.

Two male figures, one carrying a blaster rifle, the other a rotary blaster cannon, dressed in black cloaks with capes, tapestries and tassels for decoration, lowered themselves from a ledge toward the top of the 20-foot-tall ceiling via grappling hooks that were attached to their blasters. They each wore a mask; the mask of the first man bore the face of Comedy, and the mask of the second bore the face of Tragedy. They laughed behind the concealment and they armed their blasters, pointing them at the loyalists in the group.

"Surrender," they said in unison. "You're through."

"What on Earth are you people blabbering on about!? What is going on? Who are you!?"

"I am Comedy," said the first.

"And I am Tragedy," said the second.

"And we," they said together, "are going to cause quite a commotion. Gentlemen, if you please."

Luke looked up at Descole, and they both nodded at each other. Anakin glanced in C-3PO's direction and smirked. Anakin drew his lightsaber, and jumped up into the air, gravity pulling him down on top of the good doctor. But then, his lightsaber stopped against something unexpectedly.

Emmerich Frei's cane was also a lightsaber.

The doctor pushed back against his new foe with all his strength; although, weak he was, he could put up a good fight when need be. Anakin scrunched his face in anger, and let hate and darkness fuel him as he became stronger. He shoved Frei to the ground, but the eccentric wouldn't give up that easily. Again, they clashed, Anakin gaining more and more strength; more and more hate; he drew closer to killing the doctor.

Luke, Descole and Threepio watched as Anakin tormented the man who stood in their way this entire time. He was the only reason that their goal was not accomplished; that their vendettas remained unresolved and their grudges unsatisfied. "That's enough, Skywalker," said Luke, the leader of this scum team. He pulled a mask from his bag and adorned it, and the other members of their coalition followed suit. Soon after, black robes rested on their shoulders.

Luke's eyes could be seen from openings in his mask. They looked at Dr. Frei with contempt as he sat on the floor panting, with wonder and mystery in his eyes. "Luke, my boy… what are you…" Young Triton began to laugh maniacally, and his mates joined him.

"Don't you see?" he asked, motioning to himself and his fellow traitors. "We all have scores to settle. It's obvious. But, no, you couldn't stay out of the way. You had to investigate and poke around and stick your filthy nose where it didn't belong." Young Luke marched up to the doctor and pushed him back to the ground when he tried to rise to his feet. "But, thanks to Paolo's little voting system, we had a window of opportunity, so to speak; a chance; a chance to satisfy our desires. We're rid of almost all of you, and we now outnumber you. We have nothing to lose, and everything to gain, you see. You made a fatal mistake, Dr. Frei."

Emmerich's expression never changed. His eyes seemed empty and hopeless. He drew a breath to speak, and then hesitated a moment. "Are… are you even Luke Triton anymore?"

"Yes, but not the Luke Triton you once knew. I am a new Luke Triton; a better one. And I will not hide behind and be subjected to the professor's shadow anymore." Luke clenched his fist and lowered his head. "I won't," he said quietly.

Descole raised his wrist suddenly when a communicator on his gauntlet beeped. "Oh? It appears Maestro is on his way," he announced, smirking.

"Excellent," said Anakin darkly. "We can show everyone who's boss around here."

And then the window broke, and four bodies tumbled inside. A fog of dust filled the room when blasterfire was heard. In the confusion, the loyals panicked and began to fight back blindly. They fired and swung at whatever moved in the chaos. How lucky am I, thought Luke as he took this opportunity to his advantage. He drew a knife from a pocket in his cloak and crept stealthily behind a tall hat; the professor's tall hat, to be precise. Layton exclaimed and collapsed suddenly, and Luke looked down with disgust. He raised the hand that held the knife with intentions to strike him once more, but he was interrupted. "Don't," said Descole from behind. "Let him live. He'll suffer more that way." Jean smirked evilly and chuckled. Oh, what satisfaction he received from seeing his long-term rival brought to his knees.

Rex was firing with his expert aim and dual pistols; he knew who the enemy was, but he had to somehow alert the other loyals to the fact that he and the others were on their side. That's when he noticed one of his comrades' firing had stopped. He rushed to where he last saw Layton, and found him barely hanging onto consciousness, sprawled out on the floor, his hand by his weapon and blood spilling from his back. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. Rex was about to yell something into his comlink when something hit him forcefully over the head, knocking him out.

"Not so fast, Captain," said Skywalker, who had whacked his cranium with a metal pole that he found in a corner. "This thing works pretty well," he said to himself, twirling its slim form between his fingers. "I think I'll keep this."

"Rex, this is Solo, the dust is settling. In a little while, the enemy will be incapacitated," said Han into his comlink as he fired on one of the black cloaked figures. "Rex? Captain Rex! Rex, come in!" No response. "What happened?" He fired a couple more shots.

"Hello," said a voice. Han whipped himself around to face the direction from which it came. "And goodnight!" Descole shoved his foot into Solo's face and then kicked the side of his head with his heel, causing Han to pass out. "You've been a great audience, ahahaha!"

Sidious, like the coward he is, was hiding in some corner somewhere, and when the crossfire began to cease, he used a Force blast to blow away all the dust. Everyone's positions were revealed, and the loyals who had been jumped out-of-the-blue realized they had been firing at friends. Celeste was on her knees, shivering and frightened beyond her comprehension. Frei rushed to her side and held her to himself and she clung to his shirt and began to sob and heave.

Threepio, since he wasn't capable of doing much physically, he slowly walked up behind Sidious who was still in his corner. "Greetings," he began, "I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. I am afraid that your chances of escaping the next ten seconds without causing yourself great harm is one million forty nine thousand seven hundred sixty two, to one." Then these long, golden spikes came out from Threepio's fingers and they created the same sensation on Sidious' body as if he was being attacked by Force lightning. When the golden droid stopped, the Darth was passed out on the floor. "Well, that's that," he finally remarked.

"Come on, everyone," said Luke. "We should 'tie up' these loose ends."

Soon, everyone was tightly bound hand and foot, and gagged with cloths. "That should keep them still," said Anakin, finishing up chaining the group to each other, and then to the ground. He dusted his hands off.

Then, the room filled with an ominous wind, that continued to gain more and more speed as time went on. Soon it gathered these black particles, and assembled them in a single six-foot whirlwind in front of the four scum. They bowed their heads, and then their leader appeared; Maestro Eclipse. He was dressed very similarly, in black clothes and cape, and his mask was half of Comedy and half of Tragedy; he was the one Clyde mentioned in his letter to the professor. He was the one responsible for all of those crimes... those lives, wrecked and ruined and taken away… he was the one they were after this entire time: and he had the upper hand.

"My, my," he said, inspecting the row of loyals. "Well done, friends. You actually did it."

"Of course we did! With such great leadership, how could we fail?" replied his scum team. He smirked and chuckled to himself. Then he looked to Layton who was passed out from the blood loss he suffered. Maestro squatted down in front of the professor and grabbed him by the chin. "Good. Very good. You've got everyone alive."

"Naturally. We don't defy you, Maestro."

"But this is not all of them. Where is that ridiculous character with the bald spot on his head and a large moustache?"

Everyone deadpanned and scanned the room fruitlessly. How could he have so easily slipped away from them!? Ohh, accursed loyals… However, Paolo was definitely a suspicious character, making individuals who were voted off disappear into thin air. "Where's Don Paolo, you insolent fools!?" yelled Luke, who slammed his fist against the wall.

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!"

Don Paolo stood dressed in white labcoat, and rubber gloves, holding in one hand a clipboard and in the other a pen; he was taking data. Cast on his body was a greenish glow that came from the bacta in huge bacta tanks; four of them, presicely. Floating in the tanks were Dimitri Allen, Darth Bane, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Mace Windu.

"My plans are almost complete! Now, to finalize the experiment…" Paolo pressed several button patterns on the control panel of his experiment and the liquid inside of the glass tanks changed color. "We'll see in time if it worked."

-END OF PART ONE-


	15. The Conclusion: Part Two

"Don't screw up," called the Maestro half-playfully as his team walked out of the door to do his evil bidding. Descole looked over his shoulder to his leader and squinted at him behind his mask. Descole knew he could do just as good—no, better—on his own. But the Maestro and these beings from another universe was the only window to getting what he really wanted now. He had no choice but to stay by them and remain loyal to him, whether he like it or not, and he knew that. He looked at Anakin who turned his head to him slightly. Skywalker's eyes seemed to read into Descole as if he knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Alright, gentlemen," said Luke, "we'll split up. Skywalker, you come with me." Anakin nodded and followed Luke as he continued walking.

"Hey, wait! You're going to leave me with the droid?" complained Descole, his cape swooshing with his movements.

"You have no right to complain, Descole," said Luke, not stopping to mind him, or turning to acknowledge him. "Do what I tell you, and shut up."

Descole growled and stormed off in the opposite direction, not waiting for the golden automaton to catch up with him. "Oh, Mr. Descole, please wait for me!" called the droid, moving his droid legs as fast as they would go, which wasn't very fast, especially compared to the pace at which Descole was moving.

"If you want to help, then keep up, you golden scrapheap. I'm not waiting for you. I have better things to do, you know."

Maestro walked up and down in front of the row of chained up, bound loyals. He seemed to be inspecting them in a way. Most of the prisoners were sleeping anyway. He looked down on them in disgust. These were people who tried to stop him? It was laughable how weak they were. They actually thought they could stop the most genius, infamous Maestro Eclipse? But he also rather liked what the people of this world called him.

_The No No Name._

No one knew a thing about him, really. He was as mysterious as a puzzle in a dark cave and as invisible as the wind. Just as he wanted. No one could guess who he was, unless he was dressed in his black clothes and cape and mask. And his hired guns weren't so bad, either. They did their job to an acceptable extent, and if they were learning from the greatest criminal mastermind, possibly on the entire planet, maybe also even throughout the Jedi's dimension. No one could stop him. No one could catch him. No one could guess what his next move was. He was unstoppable.

He glanced quickly over his shoulder when he heard one of the captured loyals began to stir. It was Emmerich Frei. His glasses were falling off his face, but his hands were bound behind his back, so he couldn't adjust them. He was gagged, so he couldn't speak anything intelligible. His cane had been confiscated. Even his hat was missing from his attire. He lifted his head to look to his left. Everyone was tied up and chained down. Some of them were injured, and all of them were shaken up. What was supposed to happen now? They failed to accomplish their goal. Were they going to get home now? Emmerich gasped when he realized a few things.

That man standing there—the scum's leader—was 'The No No Name', the criminal Clyde Mordecai mentioned in his letter to the professor. He probably knew all about the doctor's temporal studies; knew that he could open a space-time rift between his dimension and the Jedi's dimension. And he realized why he was still alive.

They needed Frei to open that portal. And Frei feared what would happen afterwards.

Suddenly, the man started laughing. Emmerich looked up at him with an angry expression. Who did that guy think he was, just laughing for no reason? "I see the good doctor is awake," he said, squatting down and leaning forward to get a good look at him. Emmerich turned his face away. "I can tell from the look in your eyes that you know why you're still here." Of course, Frei couldn't respond because he was gagged. The Maestro kept on talking, and Emmerich was just looking to his left. At the very end of the row was Professor Layton. He noticed blood covering his clothes and some spots of it on his face as well. What had happened in that chaotic fray? Everyone slowly began to emerge from their unconsciousness, and eventually, the Maestro decided he had better things to do that keep an eye on some weak prisoners, so he left.

Emmerich closed his eyes, and then his shackles all fell off as a subtle blue glow emanated from him. Dooku and Sidious were watching this as it happened, and they sensed a huge Force presence inside of him. Frei looked them both in the eye and smirked. Then he stood, beaten and battered and bruised, outstretched his hands, and his blue glow became brighter. Everyone's bounds were released, and immediately hands flew to wrists and heads and sore necks. Emmerich walked by everyone else. No one's injuries were fatal or too severe, but as he found when he reached the end of the row, Layton was still unconscious. Was something wrong? Frei immediately knelt down and tended to him medically, but without any equipment he couldn't help much.

Then something started to beep very loudly in the next room, but it soon stopped. _A transmission_, thought Emmerich. After a few minutes, the Maestro came out of the room and found them all unbound. "Hm? What's this? You've freed yourselves, huh? Eh, no matter. You'd have to be loosed anyway. Come on." Then he narrowed his eyes at them. "Or you all die."

"Don't keep us all in suspense, Doctor! We're waiting!" exclaimed Eclipse.

"You're too excited…." said Descole.

"Honestly, how am I more mature than you?" remarked Luke.

"No comment..." said Anakin.

Threepio remained silent as Emmerich walked up to a ridiculous-looking contraption. It almost looked like a Tesla ball, but much bigger, and it had control panels on either side of it. The Doctor gulped. _When I do this_, he thought, _the world could end_. Reluctantly, he pressed consecutive buttons. Slowly, he flipped switches and lowered levers. And then, he pressed a final button, and a huge whirlwind filled the room. Everyone's clothes and hair danced with the speed of the wind, and the Tesla ball in the middle of the huge contraption changed color and size. It became a light blue color, and it looked more like an opening to a tunnel somehow. Emmerich felt numb. _What have I done…?_

The scum jumped through it first. Then Eclipse made the loyals all go through, one by one, Emmerich carrying the unconscious Layton. And when the Maestro finally went through, the portal closed, and the room looked completely normal again. When they came out the other side, they were in some kind of cantina. Everyone looked at them. They were dressed very oddly for this kind of place. "Where are we?" asked the doctor.

"We're on Tatooine, I believe," replied Eclipse.

"Tatooine?"

"Yes. It's a planet in this galaxy. We're in a different dimension now, Doctor. You're not on Earth anymore. And it's unlikely you will ever return again," said Count Dooku, almost forlornly.

"The count is right," said Eclipse. "The real war begins _now_."


End file.
